Succession
by Phoenix Moon 13
Summary: The King is dead… Long live the King. Sixteen years after Dad, the A.I. team exist with the additions of a teenage Connor and a Lilah searching for redemption. But then the unthinkable happens...


**_Succession_**

Author's Note: This is AU after "Dad." Connor was never taken, Wes was never exiled and Angel and Cordy did get together. The Lilah/Wesley thing happened, but that will be explained.

I'm really proud to say that this little fic has won an award at the Barefoot Awards:

**WINNER of the Teens section of the Brats Award**

Thanks to whoever nominated me and decided it was good enough to give an award to. I'm chuffed to bits!

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There used to be things that Connor could never hope to understand.

Like why when he asked his mother or father, or his uncles and aunt about his real mother, they would exchange looks and change the subject.

Like why he was supposed to call Wes, Gunn and Lorne "Uncle," and Fred "Aunt," but whenever he called Lilah "Aunt Lilah," he received sharp looks from both his father and his Uncle Wes.

But when he was fifteen, he found out the truth. He discovered three weeks after his fifteenth birthday that his father killed a man called Daniel Holtz, brought forth from Angel's past to save Connor's life.

That revelation had sent Connor into a month-long rebellion and not even his mother Cordelia could snap him out of it. It had taken a few sharply cold worlds from Wesley, and grim disappointment from Gunn to bring him back to his senses.

And after that, the secrets of his past were given up.

He had always known Cordelia was not his real mother, and he soon found out about his real mother and his father's evil past, his mother's last words and Holtz's place in it all.

And after that, he wanted to know about Wesley and Lilah. And that secret was given up after a long hesitation by Wesley.

After losing Fred, losing all confidence in Angel after he killed Holtz, Wesley had drowned his sorrows. Only to wake up beside Lilah Morgan.

And he went on a downward spiral or drink and sex, ignoring Angel's disapproval with a sneer. Until, somehow, he had realised that he loved Lilah. Connor didn't understand all the details that Wesley went into to explain why and how he managed to destroy her contract with Wolfram and Hart and he didn't understand why Lilah would turn her back on the place she had given her life to.

He was all too familiar with her sneers and sarcasm concerning the uselessness of their struggle with evil, the way she would insist they were all going to die and they were going to that death like lambs to the slaughter. But she always returned her attention to her research or picked up her sword and followed her lover into whatever battle lay before them.

Connor supposed it was love. He had discovered at a young age that love was what held the group together.

And at sixteen, Connor was old enough to be considered a warrior. He was also old enough to realise that the love that his family shared could destroy them, though he wasn't sure how he knew this or what it meant.

But the idea floated through his mind as he picked up the sword he received for his fourteenth birthday, couple with an icy dread that tumbled into his stomach. But he didn't say anything, merely lowered his eyes, shrugged and grunted an answer when his Dad asked him if he was ok.

And as he trudged through the sewers, dimly aware of Lilah's muttered "You realise we're gonna die, Wes, right?" he felt the dread get worse. He felt his legs turn to lead and jelly all at the same time and for the first time, Connor knew what it felt like to be terrified of a fight. He longed to turn and flee, to grab his Mom and Dad and drag them back to the hotel along with the others. He hated himself for his cowardice, but something told him he had good reason.

He felt none of his usual certainty that they would win. He realised that his usual swagger and smirk were not present and his fingers were slippery on his sword. He gulped hard and Angel glanced at him.

"Something wrong, son?" he asked.

"Yeah, something's wrong," he replied in a low voice, suddenly realising that outside of his own feelings, there was definitely something _very_ wrong.

Knowing his son's heightened abilities were to be trusted, possibly more than his own, Angel scanned the area.

"What?" he asked. "What do you feel?"

But before Connor could answer him, a long creature swung down from the roof of the sewer and kicked him in the face, its immense strength lifted him off his feet and sent him flying backward into Wesley.

He heard Lilah screech, Fred cry out sharply. He heard his Mom call his Dad's name and he heard his father's growl as he launched into battle.

Even with his heightened senses, the world was grey and half-lit. Weapons glinted in the only available light, shadows flickered over the faces of his family and the floor became slippery in blood and gore.

Their enemy was a large army of huge monkey like creatures. With deep fur that seemed to protect them from everything but the deepest of blows and long limbs that could bend and twist as though boneless. They chattered as they fought, squawking loudly when a comrade fell.

Connor wished he could see better. It took him a while to realise that his vision was impaired by the swelling of one eye blackened by a punch and the other by the steady stream of blood dripping into it from a cut on his head.

The best thing was that his dread vanished as he fought. But it returned as one of the creature launched a kick into his gut and he raised his head to see his father disappearing into the flurry of tan fur.

"Dad!" he yelled.

"He's fine," Wes snapped, grabbing one of his shoulders.

"Get up, Connor!" Gunn yelled, grabbing the other shoulder and helping Wes haul him to his feet.

They were battered, swaying slightly from pain and blood loss, but they were still standing. Connor nodded and they turned from him, hacking furiously, keeping a sharp eye on Lilah, Fred and Cordy. Connor himself looked toward them as he beheaded a creature. Cordy fought well, she had been trained by his father and it showed. Fred hacked furiously with no rhyme or reason other than being the one left standing in the end. Lilah delivered vicious kicks and drove her axe before her with little thought.

Connor didn't know; even now, how long they fought. All he knew was that when his hand slipped in a moment of battle silence, to a painful wound in his stomach, his eyes fell on his Dad.

He had always loved to see his father fight. Fight anything. As a young boy, he would sit on the stairs of the basement and watch him teach Cordy or spar with Gunn and Wes. But now, he was horror-struck, because the unthinkable was happening.

His father was losing.

"Dad!" he shouted, running forward, only to be knocked off course by a creature who tackled him to the ground.

His yell had drawn the attention of the others and he heard various voices scream "Angel!" Only none of them made it to him, too busy fighting for their own lives.

And by the time he had killed his opponent and jumped to his feet, the largest of all the creatures had his father's head between his hands.

And his scream of "_NO!_" clashed with Cordy's in the metallic, dusty, dead air of the sewer as he watched the creature tear his Dad's head from his shoulders. There was pure, impenetrable silence as they watched - after a second's delay - Angel's body explode into dust.

He hadn't even time to look at his son, at the woman he loved, at his friends. In a matter of seconds, two centuries of life came to an end not with a bang, but with a whimper.

And it wasn't _fucking fair._

With a roar of angry, grief stricken rage, Connor barrelled toward the leader of the creatures, sword held before him. The creature, too busy blinking in surprise at Angel's demise, didn't notice until he was impaled on Connor's sword.

With a sob, Connor buckled to his knees beside the body and in his Dad's ashes. Cordy was the first at his side, sobbing as she clutched his shoulders. Fred stared at them, unable to meet Connor's eyes.

"Oh, God," she gasped, fingers shaking as she turned deathly white and pressed trembling fingers to her mouth. After a few seconds, she turned, leaning against the wall of the sewer and threw up. Gunn tore his eyes away from the remains of his friend to rub her back and whisper comforts.

Lorne didn't lift his head, keeping it slumped as his axe fell to the floor.

Lilah, pretending that nothing had happened, turned to Wesley to fuss over a cut on his cheek. He caught her hand, squeezed it and shook his head. He walked slowly toward Connor and Cordelia, and Connor saw his hands shake and his eyes fill with tears.

Apart from Cordy's howls, there was no sound other than the shuffle of footsteps as Lilah came to stand beside Wes and slip her hand in his.

Connor looked away from Wesley and the others, to reach for Cordelia. She buried her head in her neck, howling his father's name; the love of her life as her fists beat her adopted son's back.

Then Wesley broke the silence and his words drew everyone's attention to him and then to Connor. And Connor wondered briefly whether their love for their father would result in a grief that killed them all.

Wesley's words were whispered, mockingly harsh. But they were not borne of any malice towards the adopted nephew he loved dearly, his words came only from bitter grief. He met Connor's eyes and said, in a horse, grieved whisper that echoed eerily in the dead space around them:

"The King is dead… Long live the King."

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_**The End.**_


End file.
